


lost by you

by frinkles



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hurt/Comfort, In a way, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:54:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27885595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frinkles/pseuds/frinkles
Summary: “Uh,” Yangyang starts. “Well, like. This is not a joke but like, my dick is hard and it won’t go down.”
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Liu Yang Yang
Comments: 27
Kudos: 229





	lost by you

**Author's Note:**

> eyy

It never really gets quiet in these forests at night. They’ve only been here for a week or so, but Ten has already figured that out. There’s the insects, that start when it gets dark and don’t let up until the sun rises, and the birds that somehow sound much scarier at night than during the day. And Ten can also hear a rustling of leaves that he just knows is not from the wind. He's been having a hard time falling asleep with it, as if the sticky warmth wasn't enough.

And now Yangyang shifting around in bed next to him is keeping him up, too.

Ten is not sure if Yangyang’s still awake. He woke Ten up when he left the campervan to take a leak, but that was a while ago, and Yangyang seems to have no problem sleeping through the sounds surrounding them. If he keeps moving around like this, though, Ten will have to wake him up anyway.

He’s about to turn around and “accidentally” bump into Yangyang, but he doesn’t have to. Yangyang was still awake after all.

“Ten,” he whispers, his sleeping bag crinkling when he turns around. Ten hears him unzip it with a quiet sigh, and feels a clammy hand nudge his shoulder. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah.” Ten doesn’t bother whispering, but the dark around them still makes him feel like he should keep his voice down. “You keep moving, you’re so loud.”

“Sorry,” Yangyang mutters. He giggles, but it sounds awkward. “Um, something is wrong.”

He sounds serious enough for Ten to instantly feel wide awake, head snapping around to face Yangyang’s direction. They’re in the middle of nowhere and it’s in the middle of the night, and Ten is already stressed. “What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

Yangyang giggles again, and Ten’s worry gives way to annoyance. It’s clearly not a very pressing issue, then. “Uh,” Yangyang starts. “Well, like. This is not a joke but like, my dick is hard and it won’t go down.”

“ _Oh my god_.” Ten groans, rolling onto his back. “Don’t wake me up for that?”

“No, I’m like, serious. It doesn’t feel normal, it feels wrong. I’m not, like, turned on or anything, it’s just hard and it won’t go away. It kinda hurts.”

Ten can’t help his incredulous laugh. “Don’t bother _me_ with that! Deal with it yourself, let me sleep.”

“No, Ten…” Yangyang says with a small voice. Ten can hear him flap open his sleeping bag, but it’s not gonna help much, Ten knows. The heavy, humid air that has already permeated every corner of their campervan, won’t offer any relief. “It’s really not feeling right. It hurts, seriously.”

Ten guffaws. “And what do you want me to do about it? Do you want me to, like, give you a helping hand?” He really doesn’t know what Yangyang is trying to achieve here. If them getting handsy is his actual goal, he’s taking a really weird approach.

It must not be, though. Yangyang giggles nervously, his sleeping bag rustling. “Oh my god, no!” He gathers himself. “What, did you think I was trying to ask you that?”

“I did, actually.” Ten laughs along with Yangyang. “I thought, oh my god, this is a really weird way to ask if we can fool around.”

“Oh, god, no—I don’t want that! Bro, that’s…” Yangyang cringes noticeably, and his chuckles fade out. “But I’m really serious, though… It really—it hurts…”

“Ugh.” Ten sighs, still kind of laughing, even if he feels bad for Yangyang too. It’s really an awkward moment for something like this, being alone with your bro in a tiny campervan… It’s something that had been lingering in the back of his head, before they set off, and he hoped it wouldn’t happen to himself. “Just—do what you normally do when this happens. I’ll turn around and pretend I didn’t hear anything. Or I can like, turn on some music or something.”

“Dude…” Yangyang sounds like he’s in disbelief, and it makes Ten regret saying anything, because now it seems like he’s the weird one, when it’s really Yangyang for bringing it up in the first place. “It’s not—there is no ‘ _normally_ ’… I told you, this is—like, it feels different from normal.”

Ten turns to his side, away from Yangyang, and pulls the sleeping bag up to his head. The cotton lining feels uncomfortable against his sweaty neck, but he’ll endure it for Yangyang. “Look, I’m not seeing anything, I’m not hearing anything. I just want to sleep.” They’re going to be living this close together for a few more weeks, might as well just get this out of the way right now.

“What the fuck…” Yangyang remains completely still for a long while, save for the way he’s breathing through his nose, and Ten starts to believe that he might actually be able to fall asleep again. Until Yangyang whispers, “I’m actually going to do it, though.”

Ten stays quiet, proving to Yangyang that he’s not hearing anything. But he can hear it all, obviously. He can hear Yangyang swallow, and shift a little. “You said so yourself, you said I could do it,” he says defiantly. “So I’m going to.”

The sounds from outside continue. The insects won’t shut up, the birds in the distance keep screaming, unbothered. The refrigerator rattles, and starts humming. Ten tries to focus on it completely, immersing himself in it, giving Yangyang his privacy. He can just treat it as a mindfulness exercise, and maybe it will help him fall asleep, too.

Yangyang is trying to be quiet, Ten can tell. He _is_ quiet—probably keeping the sleeping bag out of the way with one hand so it doesn’t make any sound, not that Ten is really thinking about what he’s doing—until his sharp inhales start to get too loud to ignore, too tight and breathless, sounding too much like sobs.

It seriously sounds like he’s crying by the time he’s coming, gasps strangled and shaky and sounding wet as they catch in his throat. Ten is not trying to listen, but he notices how Yangyang’s breathing doesn’t settle, how it doesn’t sound like he’s relaxing in the slightest.

Ten is kind of expecting it already, when Yangyang speaks up. “Ten,” he mutters, “it’s really—” His voice breaks, and he swallows hard, and Ten stares into the darkness. “I’m sorry, but it’s really… It hurts, it’s not…”

“It’s not—it didn’t help?” As much as Ten wishes he wasn’t in this situation right now, or ever, he hears the despair in Yangyang’s voice, and he really just can’t leave Yangyang to suffer, he cares too much.

“It didn’t help,” Yangyang confirms. “Ten, it—it _hurts_.”

Some of the worry Ten felt earlier, when Yangyang first spoke up, starts reappearing, clenching around his chest. Yangyang sounds so serious, and genuinely like he’s in pain. Ten turns over, and pushes himself upright. “I’m gonna turn on the light, okay?”

He waits for Yangyang to say okay, and feels around on the roof, fingers skimming over the headlining until he reaches the switch.

Yangyang has his eyes shut when pale yellow light floods their living quarters, to shield them from the brightness or maybe because he can’t look at Ten. Ten looks at him, though, he can’t help it. It must be embarrassing, but Ten knows that’s not what caused Yangyang’s face to be flushed like this.

His half unzipped sleeping bag is open, pushed away from his bare chest, but covering him from waist down, including the way both his hands are undeniably somewhere at his crotch. His breath still comes shallow and rapidly, even now.

“Hey…” Ten says, lowering his hand and sitting down on his side of the bed. “You’re… You’re not okay, are you?”

“No, I’m not. Fuck…” Yangyang pulls one of his hands up, using it to push his bangs away from his sweaty forehead, and he slowly blinks his eyes open, not looking at Ten. “I feel like it’s only worse now.”

“It’s really that bad?”

“Yeah…” Yangyang turns to him now, lips curled into a grim smile. “I want to laugh about it, but it’s—it’s really not okay.”

“Let—um, can I see?” Ten is past the point of feeling embarrassed about all this already. He looks down Yangyang’s body, to the contours of his hand under the bright orange polyester.

“Uh…” Yangyang chuckles mirthlessly. “Okay, but, like… I just—I just came…”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.” Ten helps Yangyang unzip his sleeping bag further down, and waits for Yangyang to push it out of the way.

Yangyang has his boxers shoved down, spunk on his stomach, his hand loosely curled around his shaft. He removes it, and Ten can see right away that he wasn’t lying. His cock is still completely hard, flushed a deep red, exposed head shiny and slick. It twitches once, bobbing on Yangyang’s stomach, and Yangyang gasps, his hand clenching into a fist.

“It’s not getting better, it hurts,” he groans, fingers flexing and curling up. He reaches to stroke himself once, and pulls his tense arm away again.

“What… What did you _do_?” Ten has heard about things like this before, but most he remembers is that urgent medical help is necessary if it lasts for longer than four hours. “How long has it been like this? Did you take drugs or something?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Yangyang’s head hits his pillow with a thud, and Ten looks up at his face. He’s still flushed pink, blotches on his chest too, covered in a sheen of sweat. His other hand is still twisted in his hair. “I just went out to take a piss, like, right here—” he gestures to their side, where Ten knows the trees and shrubs start “—and when I got back, it started.”

“And before that? You didn’t do anything?” They did the exact same things today, ate the same meals, even shared the same snack this evening. And Ten hasn’t felt any different from usual. “Oh, wait! Did you… like, did you step on anything? Or did you get stung by something? Or like a snake, or a spider…”

Yangyang squeezes his eyes shut, his brow furrowed. “I don’t know. I didn’t feel anything.” His body jerks, pained sighs getting trapped in his throat. From the corner of his eye, Ten sees Yangyang’s bicep flex, before he starts moving his arm, not hiding what he’s doing.

“Do you need to… again?” Ten doesn’t follow Yangyang’s movement, allowing Yangyang to keep at least some of his dignity. “Like, that’s fine, if you need to.”

“I don’t know…” Yangyang twists his head back. Ten can see the lines of his muscles, his tendons, perspiration gathering in the dip of his clavicle. His body locks up and he chokes on a sob. “I don’t know what I—what I need. Ten, it hurts…”

His lashes are wet when he opens his eyes to look at Ten, unshed tears shimmering in his dark eyes. His bottom lip trembles, before he catches it between his teeth. “Please…”

“I—I don’t know… I don't know either...” Ten’s stomach twists uncomfortably, with worry and fear, but also the distressing awareness that, even though Yangyang is clearly struggling, suffering even, Ten thinks he looks hot like this.

Ten tears his gaze away, looking around them for anything that might help. He spots his phone on the other side of his pillow, and reaches for it.

When he turns back, he misestimates the exact location of Yangyang’s body, and instead of keeping his eyes on Yangyang’s face, it’s his waist that he sees first, abs tensing erratically, cum smeared around. From there, it’s only a short distance to his dark, wet cock, only fleetingly covered by the rapid jerks of his hand.

Yangyang draws in a sharp breath, loud, high pitched, and Ten pulls himself together.

“Can you—” Yangyang needs to swallow again, licking his lips. “What’s—what’s the emergency number here?”

“I don’t know, I was gonna…” He was going to check. But Ten already knows what to expect when he unlocks his phone. He stares at the little no sign symbol, waiting for it to turn into bars. Just one would be enough, but it doesn’t happen. “I have no signal…”

“Fuck…” Yangyang whines. Both his hands are pulling at his sleeping bag now, his whole body pulled tight, hips bucking up. “ _Fuck_.”

Ten climbs out of their bed, holding his phone up, trying different corners. He knows it’s pointless, but he just doesn’t know what else to do. Yangyang whines again, a broken moan, and Ten can see tears rolling down to his temples. Ten's chest clenches. “You really—we need to get help.”

“Do you—” With one arm, Yangyang drags the sleeping bag to cover himself again, the other already underneath it. “Do you have a satellite phone?”

“Fuck, I don’t…” Ten remembers Yuta recommending him to get one, and Ten had laughed at it, because, “ _we’re not gonna go hiking for days like you, we’ll be by car, we won’t get far from the road_ ”. Ten curses again, and throws his phone towards his pillow. He stares at the dated pattern on the curtains, accompanied by the rhythmic crinkling of Yangyang’s sleeping bag, and gets an idea. “Oh, maybe we got one with the van!” He’s seen an emergency kit in the center console compartment, but neither of them bothered checking what’s inside. Ten slides his flip-flops out from underneath their bed. “I’ll go check.”

The outside air that hits him when he slides the door open feels like instant relief on his hot skin. He didn’t realise they had been heating up the inside of the van so much. Ten leaves the door open for Yangyang, hoping that it will help a bit. There’s no one around to hear him, anyway.

He doesn’t find a satellite phone in the emergency kit, nor in the glove compartment, nor in the mesh pocket behind their seats. He even checks on the floor, but there’s nothing, and he sinks into the passenger seat with a sigh, staring at his badly lit reflection in the windshield until Yangyang’s soft cries become impossible to ignore.

“I’m sorry,” Ten says the moment he gets back to Yangyang. “I’m sorry, there’s nothing.”

Yangyang is uncovered again, still naked, his cock still hard and flushed. There’s more cum on his stomach, coating his hands, staining the dark blue sheet that’s covering the foam cushions of their bed. He looks up, hair plastered to his forehead, teeth digging into the reddened skin of his lips, his eyes still teary. “It hurts,” he whispers. “Ten, help me…”

“I—I’m trying to.” Ten carefully sits down next to him, and reaches out to stroke his bangs away from his face. Yangyang’s skin is burning. You’ll be okay, Ten wants to tell him, but he can’t, because he doesn’t know if it’s the truth.

Yangyang’s choked up sobs quiet down a little as Ten runs his hand through his hair. “Touch me more,” he says.

Ten freezes. “What?”

“T—touch me more. It feels good.”

“I—” Ten refuses to pay attention to the way Yangyang’s words ignite a fire deep in his stomach. “Yangyang… That’s… You mean, like—”

“Yes.” Yangyang nods once. “Please…” He has his eyes closed, his head leaning into Ten’s touch. His arms are still rigid along the sides of his body. “It might help. I need…”

His voice trails off into another strangled cry, and it pains Ten’s rational brain so much to see him like this, helpless and in agony. If he’s gonna do it, he’s helping Yangyang. He’s doing Yangyang a favour. Yangyang _asked_ him to.

Ten lets his eyes travel down Yangyang’s body. He must’ve come again while Ten was in the cab, at least once. His orgasms must be painful now, too, if they weren’t from the very start. But his erection hasn’t flagged at all. “Okay,” Ten says. “If you want, I’ll—I’ll help you.”

He’s still looking slick, a string of precum connecting the tip to his belly, but the first thing Ten does is spit in his palm. “Um—” He glances up at Yangyang, but Yangyang has his eyes closed, breathing erratically through his mouth. “Okay, I’m gonna help you,” Ten says again.

There’s no need for foreplay, this situation definitely doesn’t call for it, Ten is just helping Yangyang, but he still feels like he can’t just go in right away. He skims the soft skin around Yangyang’s hipbone first, using the dry back side of his hand, his knuckle grazing a small freckle. His skin here is just as hot as on his face, and Yangyang squirms the moment they make contact, twitching.

His cock feels even hotter. It pulses, when Ten carefully strokes from the tip down to the base, spitting out more precum. Ten thinks Yangyang moans, but he might be crying again.

“Is this okay?” Ten leaves his fist around the base of Yangyang’s cock, his free hand finding his face again. It’s weird, jerking him off with one hand and thumbing his tears away with the other. It’s not something he should be liking. But he strokes Yangyang once more, and Yangyang’s whole body tenses, his voice breaking as his head tips back, more tears welling up in his eyes, and Ten kind of likes it.

“Too much,” Yangyang mumbles, and Ten stops immediately. “Hurts… it’s—raw, too much.”

Ten looks at Yangyang’s angry red cock. “I’ll use my mouth,” he says without thinking, but even when he does think about it, it seems like a good idea. His soft, wet lips and tongue would no doubt feel better. He’s not sure if Yangyang even hears him, but Yangyang is not telling him not to, so he crawls down the bed, lowering himself next to Yangyang’s hips so he can bring his cock to his mouth.

He starts really gently, just taking the head between his lips, moving only his tongue, but Yangyang reacts like it’s the best he’s ever received. Ten knows he can’t help it, he’s not himself right now, but—it feels good nonetheless. Ten takes him a bit deeper when he decides it’s wet enough to lessen the friction, sucking a little harder. Yangyang’s hips buck up immediately, and between his ragged breaths and whines, Ten thinks he hears his own name.

Yangyang’s balls feel tight and tense, too. They must hurt as well, Ten imagines, so he tugs only very lightly. Yangyang practically shouts, and Ten lets him come in his mouth. He only shoots a small amount, not much left, but his body is convulsing, feet digging into bed, back curling forwards. His own hand takes over, pushing Ten’s face away, moans and sobs catching in his throat to the point Ten worries he might actually choke.

“Keep breathing,” Ten urges, pushing himself up and clearing his throat. Yangyang keeps twitching erratically, although he’s flat on the bed again, his eyes shut. They remain closed, even as the tension in his body slowly eases. “Yangyang, are you with me?”

“Yeah,” Yangyang forces out, gasping, his voice hoarse. “I’m—” He sucks in a few deep, shuddery breaths. “I think—I'm… Feel better now.”

Ten wipes his mouth, and moves so he’s kneeling next to Yangyang’s shoulders. Yangyang’s hairline is drenched in sweat when Ten strokes his hair along it, mixing with tears along his temples. “You sure? It’s—you’re okay now?”

He still feels hot, his skin flushed everywhere, but he’s breathing deeper and more steady than Ten has heard him do so far. “I think so,” Yangyang says softly.

“Do you want some water?” He definitely needs to hydrate.

Yangyang nods, and Ten gets off the bed and grabs one of the bottles they keep in the fridge. “Big bottle,” he mumbles, trying to hold it up for Yangyang with one hand, and help him sit up a bit with the other.

Yangyang takes one sip, and chokes on it. Ten quickly puts the bottle away and tries to help, patting his back, but Yangyang just mutters an “ _oops_ ”, laughing a little, and fuck, it’s good to hear that sound again.

When he’s done coughing, he takes some more sips, and Ten helps him lie back down. “Thank you… That's—that was good,” he says, not looking at Ten, and Ten is not sure what he's referring to.

But Ten is not gonna ask him to clarify. It doesn’t really matter, right now. “Is it better now?” he asks instead, looking along Yangyang’s body. He’s still trembling a little, and his cock hasn’t gone soft yet, but it looks way less severe than before.

“Feels better,” Yangyang says. “The—the cold water is nice.” He takes the bottle and presses it against his skin, to the sides of his face and the hollow of his neck. And he frowns, Ten can see him thinking. “I think—I think we still have a bag of frozen vegetables in the freezer…”

“Yeah?”

“Can you get it for me?”

“Sure.” Ten reaches for the little refrigerator and gets the pre-cut vegetables from the freezer section. He hands them to Yangyang, expecting Yangyang to cool his head or neck with it, but instead, Yangyang brings the bag down, and hesitates slightly.

“Uh—well,” he starts, and his voice has some of its usual amusement back. He sucks in a sharp breath when the cold bag makes contact with his sore dick, and Ten shudders watching it, but Yangyang lets out a long, drawn-out sigh instead. “I’m sorry if you still wanted to eat these," he says.

Ten laughs. “Your dick was literally in my mouth just now.”

“Ah, that’s right.” Yangyang laughs too, and even though his voice is still croaky and weak, he’s sounding more and more like himself. Relief floods Ten’s senses. “But,” Yangyang speaks up again, “I mean like, they’re gonna melt, though.”

“That’s really not a problem,” Ten tells him, a smile on his face. “They were gross anyway.” He watches as Yangyang visibly relaxes into the bed, head sinking down in the pillow. It’s still dark outside, but it must be nearly morning by now. “Do you think it’s over?”

“I think so.” Yangyang blinks up at the ceiling, and swallows. “Kinda feel like I'm gonna be sick.”

“Oh—” Ten quickly looks around them, for anything. Yangyang getting sick on their bed would be kind of inconvenient, it’s their only one. “Do you want some more water?”

“No.” Yangyang’s eyes slip close, and he breathes in slowly. “‘M okay. Sleep.”

Ten sits next to him, quietly watching him, until his breathing evens out completely, his jaw relaxing, the pink on his skin fading to normal levels. Ten has to get up with care, in order not to stir him, and grabs their tea towel to wet it with some water.

He starts with Yangyang’s face, wiping away the salt from his sweat and tears, cleaning his forehead, his cheeks, his sideburns. Ten even wipes the corners of his lips, and lets his fingertips trail where the cotton went. Yangyang soundly sleeps through it, he must be exhausted.

The drying semen on his stomach is harder to remove without waking him up, so Ten takes his time. He leaves Yangyang’s crotch alone, along with his hands, still holding the plastic bag in place, but he takes his boxer briefs all the way off, and then grabs his own sleeping bag to cover Yangyang with.

He should probably try to get some rest, too, but Ten doesn’t think that he can still sleep tonight. He sits at the edge of the bed instead, between the counter and Yangyang’s pillow, and looks at him again.

He looks so calm and peaceful now, his wet hair and the twisted sheets and the heavy scent in the air around them the only reminder of what took place earlier. Ten combs his fingers through his hair again, and exhales slowly.

It’s kind of hard, making good rice porridge with the limited ingredients they have, but Ten tries his best. The rice is already breaking down and he hasn’t run out of gas for the stove yet, so it’s going well, he thinks.

He’s chopping up some ginger, trying to go for small, even chunks, when he hears a sound from the bed. “Thirsty,” Yangyang groans, twisting around, his movements sluggish.

“Here.” Ten is quick to pass him the big bottle, and Yangyang chugs around half of it, sitting up. “How are you feeling?”

“Still thirsty.” Yangyang laughs. “Shaky. Wow, are you making breakfast?”

“Yeah!” Ten turns away from him, thoughts racing. If Yangyang is not going to bring last night up, Ten isn’t going to, either. But what if he doesn’t remember? Should Ten keep it from him? It would be the right thing to tell him the truth, but maybe not now. “It’s almost done.”

“Chill,” Yangyang says. In his peripherals, Ten can see him stretch his arms over his head. “Wow, I’m like, _really_ shaky. I think I am completely drained from last night.”

That has to be enough evidence that he remembers, at least. “Is it over now?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” Yangyang looks down at himself, and seems to realise he’s still completely naked. He rummages around under the sleeping bags, and his hand returns with the plastic vegetable bag. “Ew,” he mutters, and extends his arm towards Ten. “You want this?”

Ten huffs out a laugh. “No, thank you.” It must be gross mush by now. “You can keep it.”

He sees Yangyang drop the bag on the floor, and push it towards the door with his foot. Ten will probably be the one to clean it up later, but Yangyang is allowed a break.

Yangyang finds his underwear, and when he’s decent again, he flops back down into the bed. Ten doesn’t tell him to take it apart and set their table up. They can eat on the sheets for once, they aren’t clean anymore, anyway.

The spoon nearly slips from Ten’s hand when Yangyang speaks up again: “I can’t believe you sucked my dick.”

He’s giggling, and Ten snorts, continuing with Yangyang’s light tone. “I can’t believe you jerked off in front of me.”

“Hey, that’s different! I was, like—I was sick!”

“And I was helping you get better!” Ten gets two bowls from a cupboard, and twists to face Yangyang, turning more serious. “You _are_ completely better, right?”

“Yeah, I—I think so.” Yangyang pauses, staring out the little window. “But if you don’t mind, like… I wanna leave this place.”

“Yeah, of course! God, yeah, me too.” Ten was absolutely not about to stay here another night, no matter what Yangyang would’ve wanted. “From now on, I only want to stay at places where my phone will work.”

“Yeah, so if it happens to you, too, I can just call a doctor, right? Because, like—” Yangyang starts giggling again “—I don’t think—I don’t think I could suck your dick, bro.”

“You wouldn’t? You wouldn’t do that for me, you’d just let me suffer!?”

“No, I—I just can’t—” Yangyang squirms, laughing loudly. “ _Dude_!”

Ten wants to laugh along, but he can’t help the way he’s getting serious again. He reaches for Yangyang’s hand on the sheets, encasing his fingers with his own. “But, for real, I’m… I’m glad that it’s over, that you’re back.”

Yangyang squirms even more, eyes wide at Ten, laugh high pitched. “Bro, why you gotta be so cheesy!” He makes a weak attempt at freeing his hand, and then lets his body relax, looking away from Ten, staring at the wall for a while. “Yeah,” he says eventually, his hand tightening around Ten's. “I’m—I’m glad too.”

**Author's Note:**

> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/frxdmr)


End file.
